


You can build a house, but not a home

by justhockey



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Caring Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Communication, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s04e04 Coda, Evan "Buck" Buckley-centric, Family Secrets, Getting Together, M/M, Post-Episode: s04e04 9-1-1 What's Your Grievance?, Protective Bobby Nash, Sibling Love, Therapy, Upset Evan "Buck" Buckley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:35:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29345241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justhockey/pseuds/justhockey
Summary: “I have walked through fire every single day of my life, because of you.”Buck is so good at being a firefighter because he grew up inside a burning building, where one wrong move could send it all crashing down.It’s hardly his fault that he got burned along the way.*Or, five times Buck says how he feels, and the one time he doesn’t have to.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Maddie Buckley, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 43
Kudos: 683
Collections: 9-1-1 Tales





	You can build a house, but not a home

**Author's Note:**

> Title from _A Girl and His Cat_ by Biffy Clyro.

**I**

Buck is hiding out in the bunk room while everyone else is eating. He sitting with his legs crossed beneath him on one of the beds, chewing at the side of his thumb and waiting for the call to connect.

He’s actually kind of proud of himself, that he recognised he was struggling and scheduled an emergency meeting with his therapist. It makes him feel like he’s growing up, which is useful, because he knows that when his parents come to town he’ll revert right back to feeling like an insecure little kid. 

“Hello Evan,” Dr Copeland says when the call finally connects. 

“Hi,” he says, then, wasting no time, “My parents are coming to town. Like, today.”

She nods understandingly, because they’ve talked about Buck’s parents before - at length - and she knows how much of an issue they are for Buck. He hasn’t told her everything yet, mostly because there are so many boxes that he’s still afraid to open up and look inside. But he’s trying. He’s always, _always_ trying. 

“Not to sound like a cliche, but how does that make you feel?” She asks. 

Buck would probably laugh at that usually, but right now nothing feels funny. It feels like he’s balancing on the edge of a cliff and the first sight of his parents will send him tumbling to the bottom. 

“Scared. Stressed,” he says, then pauses. “Angry.”

“At your parents?”

Buck nods. “For showing up when it’s convenient, but never when we needed them.”

He thinks of the times he and Maddie have been in danger, or fighting for their lives, or just in need of their parents to try and make everything feel better. But in all of those moments there was Maddie, and the 118, and Eddie - a family of their own making, just helping each other through. His parents didn’t even bother to call. 

“And Maddie, too,” Buck confesses. “For inviting them back into our lives.”

He hates saying it out loud, hates feeling angry at his sister when she’s always found a way to support him even if she disagreed. But it’s true, he’s mad at her for bringing their parents here, and he’s mad at her for thinking that they’re ever going to change - that they’ll ever be the parents he and Maddie want them to be. 

And he needs to stop hiding his feelings, so. 

“That makes sense,” Dr Copeland says. “But they don’t have to come back into your life, you don’t have to see them.”

Buck has thought about the very same thing, over and over again. How he could just refuse to see them, keep his head down until they’ve left the city, and continue acting like they don’t exist. He could, but - 

“Maddie needs me, I can’t make her do this alone,” he says. 

Dr Copeland nods again. “But you’re allowed to put yourself first, Evan. You’re allowed to do what’s right for you.”

She kind of sounds like a broken record, honestly. She’s been telling him the same thing since their very first session, and while Buck feels like he’s making progress in a lot of areas, this is one of the hardest lessons to learn. Buck’s whole existence revolves around putting others first - as a kid, on the job, in his personal life. It’s just who he is, and he doesn’t know how to unlearn that. 

Because if he puts himself first, then he’s selfish. And when he puts others first, he’s reckless. It feels like he can never get the balance right, like Buck is always all or nothing - there’s never any between. 

“I don’t want to see them,” he admits. “But I _do_ want to be there for Maddie, I won’t make her face them alone.”

It hurt when Maddie left him behind, when she left him to deal with their parents all by himself. He knows how impossibly hard that was for him, and he doesn’t want her to have to go through it as well, not even for a single night. 

“I just -“ He hesitates. 

Sometimes Buck still worries that he’s burdening Dr Copeland, that he should just nod and smile, and pretend that everything is fine. And he knows that he’s paying her, that it’s literally her job to listen and to help him, but. Old habits die hard, he figures. 

“I’m so tired of trying to be the son they always wanted, when I know that it’s not going to happen - that I’m never gonna be good enough, no matter what I do. I don’t want to do that anymore.”

“So don’t,” she says, like it’s easy. “Just be you, and if that’s not good enough for them, well. That’s not your problem. If you keep trying to be someone you’re not, you’ll forget who you _are._ ” 

He ends the calling feeling a fraction calmer, less like he’s going to fizz out of his own skin. Because he doesn’t live under their roof anymore, he doesn’t have to act a certain way to keep the peace, and they’re leaving soon anyway. Buck doesn’t have to pretend to be someone else for parents who haven’t cared about any version of him. 

It helps that he’s being honest, too. Talking about his feelings - even when they’re ugly - helps him sort them out in his head, make sense of them in a healthier way than simply pretending that they don’t exist. Because he’s tried that, and all it did was make himself and everyone around him miserable. 

He’s trying not to be miserable anymore.

**II**

He’s shaking from the moment he sets eyes on his parents.

They look pristine, all happy faces and baby gifts, just like a perfect family. Except the first thing they say to him is meant to degrade, even if it’s hidden behind a smile and a dismissive wave of a hand. Because that is how it has always worked with his parents - the true bitterness is always lying just beneath the surface of them, and it rears it’s ugly head occasionally, but never too much to make a scene. 

Buck makes a scene. 

Because they keep on talking like they’re the perfect parents, like they knew all along how bad Doug was for Maddie, like they never really gave up hope. But they did give up on her, they left her trapped and alone in an abusive relationship - she had no one to turn to for help because they _abandoned_ her, and it almost cost Maddie her life. 

So Buck just - he just _can’t._

He can’t listen to their bullshit for a single second longer. And it’s supposed to just be about Maddie, about the snide little remarks that are meant to make her feel bad even if they say it’s because they care. But he doesn’t know how to stop once he’s started, like he’s opened up the floodgates and now he can’t figure out how to turn them off. 

“You gave up on both of us.”

He gets up to leave, because he can’t stay there with them for a single second longer. He can’t stand the tears in their eyes, as if they actually give a shit about all the hurt they caused and the trauma they left their children with. They don’t care about what they did, they just don’t want to have to hear about it. 

Once Buck has started, though, he doesn’t know how to stop. Because they’re the reason he is the way he is, they’re the reason he’s in therapy and the reason he feels _broken._ His relationship with his parents set a precedent for all his future ones, which is exactly why Buck doesn’t know how to let someone love him, or let himself have something good without trying to ruin it. 

They never taught him how to be happy. 

“I have spent my entire life feeling like a _constant_ disappointment,” he tells them. 

And the worst part is, they probably already know that. Because they were the ones who made him feel that way, the ones who always made it _so_ clear that Buck wasn’t ever going to be good enough for them. And they don’t even try to comfort him now, don’t reach out a hand and tell him it isn’t true, because they all know that it is. 

“I have walked through fire every single day of my life, because of _you._ ”

Buck is so good at being a firefighter because he grew up inside a burning building, where one wrong move could send it all crashing down. He had to do smart, then daring, then _reckless_ things, just to earn a shred of their attention, and even that wasn’t enough. 

Everything he’s put himself through - ‘finding himself’ in South America, SEAL training, the fire academy, it was _all_ to get them to notice him. And they never even cared once. It’s hardly his fault that he got burned along the way. 

“I don’t know what you expected us to do,” his mother cries. 

And that’s the moment all the fight leaves his body. All the anger and the resentment that has been building inside of him is replaced by a hurt so bad it leaves him breathless. He was too much trouble. Too difficult. More work than he was worth. 

All Buck hears is that he wasn’t good enough to earn his parents love. 

“Love me anyway,” he almost begs. 

Then he turns and leaves. Because if his parents have to be told that they should have loved him, well. This whole conversation is pointless. 

He was honest with how he felt, and they were honest right back, and it probably shouldn’t be a surprise, really. Because he’s always known he wasn’t the son they wanted, that he would never do anything that would be seen as good enough in their eyes. 

But to hear them say it out loud, to hear them admit that Buck wasn’t _worthy_ of their love. It shatters him.

**III**

Buck’s hand shakes as he raises it to knock on the door.

He doesn’t know what he’s going to do when he sees her face, and he has no idea what he’s supposed to say. He hasn’t really thought it through, he just needs to see her. So much was left unsaid, there were so many things they didn’t talk about. And he’s angry with her, but she’s also the only person he can really talk to about this. 

When Maddie opens the door she looks exhausted, and Buck thinks that neither of them could have gotten much sleep last night. Her eyes widen in surprise when she sees him, and it’s almost like Buck can _see_ some of the weight being lifted from her shoulders. He can’t help but feel guilty for putting it there in the first place. 

“Can I come in?” He asks. 

Maddie doesn’t even hesitate, just opens the door wide and nods. “Yeah, yeah of course, Buck.”

It’s awkward as they take a seat, Buck refusing a cup of coffee because he doesn’t want to make her think he’s staying long. He’s not. They need to talk, but this doesn’t mean that they’re okay, that he’s stopped being angry. 

“I’m surprised to see you,” she says. 

He hadn’t left on great terms last night - just stormed out when the secrets, and revelations, and lies all became too much. Then he ignored every one of her texts and calls because he needed space to cool off, time to adjust so he didn’t say something that would break them even further. 

He’s still not sure if it’s been enough time, but he’s tired of waiting. He’s been waiting for answers his entire life. 

“Yeah, well. We should probably talk.”

“Buck, I am _so_ sorry I didn’t tell you, I just - I was _nine,_ ” she says, tears already rolling down her cheeks. 

Buck doesn’t cry, he thinks he’s done enough of that for a lifetime. In fact, he’s not sure he feels anything at all right now. 

He knows what Dr Copeland would say, that he’s switched off his emotions because he doesn’t know how to process them. Maybe she’s right, or maybe he’s finally figured out that wearing his heart on his sleeve is just asking for people to hurt him. 

“I’m not mad that you didn’t tell me when I was a kid, Maddie,” he explains. “You were just a child yourself, and you didn’t deserve what they did to you. They should never have asked you to keep it from me.”

He knows his parents are the real villains in this story. Maddie was just a little girl when they asked her to lie to Buck. He can’t ever blame her for that because he knows exactly what their parents are like, how manipulative and deceitful they can be. 

She smiles in relief, then wipes her tears away. “Thank you.”

“But I’m hurt that you let me go my _whole life_ wondering why they didn’t love me, when you knew all along,” he says. 

Because Maddie could have told Buck as soon as she turned eighteen, or as soon as _he_ turned eighteen. She could have picked up the phone and called him in Mexico. She could have told him any day since she arrived in LA. 

But she chose not to. Every single day she woke up and carried on deceiving him. She made the decision to keep lying to him in order to protect the parents that didn’t even care about them. 

“They do love you,” she lies again. 

Buck scoffs. They both know their parents don’t love him, so he doesn’t get why Maddie continues to defend them. 

“Where? _Where_ is this love?” He asks. 

He stands up, because there’s anger, and frustration, and heartache, crackling beneath the surface of his skin, and he can’t keep still for a second longer. Maddie watches him with wide eyes, as if he’s a ticking bomb and time is about to run out. 

“Was it when they missed my science fair three years in a row, or they didn’t come to a single one of my games? Was it when they always missed parent-teacher conferences and you had to go instead?”

He pauses to wait for an answer, but Maddie is crying and he doesn’t really expect one anyway. 

“How about when they didn’t come to your wedding? Or when Doug almost _killed_ you? Or I almost lost my leg in a bombing attack, or died in a tsunami?” 

Buck isn’t yelling, not quite. But his voice is raised and his arms are stretched out in complete be disbelief. He just doesn’t understand why Maddie is so desperate to treat their parents like they deserve the benefit of the doubt. 

“Where was it Maddie?” His voice breaks as he asks. 

She doesn’t have an answer, just shakes her head and covers her mouth to hold back a cry. 

“If you can’t see it, and you can’t feel it, it isn’t there.”

He should probably feel guilty for making her cry, but he’s felt enough guilt that doesn’t belong to him for a lifetime. And he doesn’t want to hurt her, not ever, but he’s _allowed_ to be angry about this. 

He takes a seat again though, because while Maddie knows he’d never lay a hand on her, Buck knows that seeing him like this must bring back too many painful memories about Doug. He doesn’t want to do that to her, she doesn’t deserve it. 

“Like mom said,” Maddie begins, her voice timid like she already knows that Buck won’t like what she’s about to say. “It was hard for them, to see us hurting, to see us in hospital after everything that happened with Daniel.”

Buck laughs. He rests his elbows on his knees and holds his head in his hands. He needs a second to just breathe, because he doesn’t want to raise his voice again. He doesn’t want this to turn him angry and bitter, but it’s like he can _feel_ all the secrets poisoning his bloodstream. 

It’ll just be another way that his parents ruin him. 

“It wasn’t about them!” He finally replies. “It wasn’t about _him!_ We needed them and they weren’t there. They were _never_ there.”

Buck doesn’t have a child, but he does have a Christopher. He loves that kid more than anything, would walk to all four corners of the earth if Chris asked him to. 

And if he was injured, or in trouble, or just needed a shoulder to cry on, Buck would be there. No hesitation, no reservations, no excuses. If Chris needed him, Buck would fight heaven and hell to get to him. He can’t imagine that a single force on earth would be able to stop Buck from being there. 

Because that’s what you do when you love someone. Hell, he’d do the same for Maddie, or Bobby, or Hen or Chim. He’d do it for Eddie. No questions asked. It shouldn’t be too big of an ask to expect their parents to be there when they need them. 

“They had two living children, and they couldn’t see us past Daniel’s shadow,” Buck says. Then, “Maddie, I don’t even have a baby box.” 

He doesn’t know why he’s stuck on that, why maybe the smallest detail in all of this is the one that hurts so much. It’s just - there were never any memories of Buck’s childhood that were worth remembering. 

All the precious moments, all the firsts - his shoes, tooth, curl. They didn’t keep any of it. It’s like as soon as Buck was born, they were trying to erase him. Like they regretted him before they even really knew him. Like every time they looked at him and didn’t see Daniel, they wished they didn’t see anyone at all. 

“I know they’re not perfect, Buck, okay? I know they screwed up just about everything with us - with you. But they’d lost their son. They spent our whole childhood grieving him,” Maddie says. 

Buck knows that. God, he can’t even begin to imagine the agony of losing a child, and his heart aches for his parents, for the son they lost and the brother he never got to know. He’s not angry that they missed their child, he’s angry that they ignored the two who were still alive. 

And he doesn’t get why Maddie can’t understand that. 

“Why are you trying to defend them when what they did is indefensible?”

“They’re still our parents,” she whispers. 

“No, they were yours and Daniels parents. They barely even acknowledged my existence.”

“That’s not fair,” Maddie says, her voice sharp. 

“Fair? You wanna talk about fair? Maddie, I get that you’re trying to hold on to the memory of who they were before he was gone, but I never knew those people! And I don’t get why you’re trying to make me feel like I shouldn’t be mad about this!” 

There have been so many times where people have convinced Buck that his feelings were wrong, or dramatic, or unjustified. Every time, he’d let them. And every time, he’d apologise. 

He won’t do that now, not when he knows that this isn’t an overreaction. He’s sick of having his feelings invalidated. And he knows that Maddie isn’t meaning to, that she would never knowingly do that, but it doesn’t change the fact that she is. 

“I want them to love me too, Buck!” She yells. 

The following silence is deafening. They sit facing each other, Maddie crying and Buck not far behind, and let her words fill the chasm that had opened between them. 

“Of _course_ you should be mad at them, _I am!_ Part of me hates them _so_ much for what they did to us, but part of me just wants her mom to hold her.”

That’s all it takes for Buck to cross the room and pull Maddie into his arms. He sits beside her on the couch and holds her tight, stroking her hair as she cries into his shoulder. 

He feels sick with guilt. Because Maddie suffered the same as he did, she lost out on just as much as Buck had. And he’d expected her to be as angry about it as he was, but Maddie knew what their parents _could_ be like, was holding onto the memory of the way they used to be. 

It makes sense that she feels differently, that she wants different things from them. Buck should have known that all along, and he can’t believe he was selfish enough not to see it. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Mads,” he whispers. 

“Can you ever forgive me?” She pleads. 

Buck laughs in surprise. “Can you ever forgive _me?_ ”

Maddie frowns then, squeezes Buck’s hand so tight that it almost hurts. 

“Buck, there is absolutely nothing to forgive. I’m the one who-“

“- No, no Maddie, stop. I was an ass, I should have-“

“- What? You should have what?” She asks. “Reacted better to finding out you have a dead brother?”

Everything seems to stop for a second, and suddenly they’re both laughing, and crying, and it all hurts, but maybe they’re healing a little bit, too. He tucks her hair behind her ear and kisses her forehead, and she smiles up at him with watery eyes, and he knows they’re going to be okay. 

“I’m so sorry,” she tells him. 

Buck just shakes his head. “You’re already forgiven.”

He holds out his pinky finger, and Maddie locks her own around it.

**IV**

Buck feels wrung out the next day, so emotionally drained that dragging himself out of bed takes a herculean effort. But his work is his life, and he’s knows he’s going to face everyone at some point anyway, so he may as well just get it over with.

Hen is the first person he sees when he arrives at the station, and she wastes no time in wrapping him up in a hug that almost brings tears to his eyes. Almost. But he refuses to do anymore crying over them. So he hugs her back just as tight, as reminds himself of how lucky he is to have people who love him like this. 

“How you holding up, Buckaroo?” She asks. 

He has no idea how to answer that question. He feels better knowing that his parents have already left, and now that things with Maddie are okay again, but honestly? He doesn’t really know what he’s feeling. 

He shrugs. “I’ll survive.”

“Of course you will,” she agrees, “but that’s not what I asked.”

He laughs and rolls his eyes, but he thinks she probably knows how much that means to him, how important it is for him to feel like they care. 

“I’m hanging in there,” he says. 

He is. He’s holding on and refusing to let go, and he’ll figure the rest out along the way. And that seems like a good enough answer for Hen, because she claps him on the back and walks away, leaving him with an invitation for dinner at her place whenever he’s free. 

Then it’s Eddie who’s walking up to him. He reaches out and holds onto one of Buck’s wrists, lets his thumb rest gently over Buck’s pulse point. He’d be worried that Eddie can feel it accelerating just from his touch, but he’s too busy focusing on the look Eddie is giving him instead. 

“I know you won’t want to talk right now,” Eddie says, and Buck finds himself floored by how well he knows him. “But you can, whenever you’re ready. I’ll be here.”

“Thank you,” Buck says, so quiet it’s almost inaudible. 

“Chris is at Tía Pepa’s tonight, but you’re welcome to come over.”

Buck nods, because he can’t trust his voice to remain steady if he speaks. It’s just, to have this, to have people who love him this much, it’s everything to Buck. 

Chimney corners him in the locker room. He’s changing into a fresh shirt after a tough call to a major car accident, when the door opens and Chim slips inside. Buck doesn’t say anything, just buttons his shirt even faster so he can escape as quickly as possible. 

“Buck-“

“Nope.”

“Buck, come on man, talk to me,” Chim begs. 

But Buck doesn’t want to talk to him, not just yet. Because he knew, he knew and didn’t bother to tell Buck. And Buck thought that they were friends. 

“You should have told me.”

“I told Maddie to,” Chim says. 

Buck laughs and shakes his head. “Maddie was keeping it from me for the sake of our parents, but _you_ don’t owe them anything. You should have told me.”

Chimney sighs and sits down on the bench. He looks at Buck like he’s waiting for him to sit too, but Buck just leans back against his locker and crosses his arms over his chest. He doesn’t want to do this right now, but if Chimney insists then he’s not going to hold back. 

“I couldn’t do that to Maddie.”

“She would have forgiven you,” Buck says. 

“Not if you never forgave her,” Chim retorts. 

He doesn’t think that’s true. He gets Chimney’s concern, obviously, but Maddie loves him and she’s having his baby, so she would have forgiven him no matter what, even if took a while. 

“Come on Buck, what was I supposed to do?”

Buck scoffs, because while there might not have been any _right_ thing for Chim to do - Buck can admit that much - there definitely was a _wrong_ to do. 

“I don’t know, man. Maybe _not_ run around trying to tell Albert and Hen?” Buck suggests. 

Chim’s face falls and he goes pale. He clearly didn’t know that Buck knew, but he _lives_ with Albert, for gods sake, and Hen had accidentally let it slip when she had text him to check he was okay. 

So yeah, maybe Buck can’t be mad at Chimney for not telling him, because he wouldn’t ever want to risk losing Maddie, either. But to try and tell Albert and Hen, when he didn’t even have the guts to tell Buck? Yeah, he’s pissed about that. Because it wasn’t even his secret to try and share. 

“I didn’t want to have to carry it alone, you know I hate secrets,” he says. 

“Yeah, I hate secrets too. You didn’t bother to let me in on this one, though. Although, you had no problem trying to tell people who didn’t even have the right to know,” Buck argues. 

He loves Hen, and Albert is like an annoying little brother to him, but they would have had no right to know the secret before _Buck_ even knew. And they only didn’t because neither of them wanted to hear it - both of them had the decency to make Chim keep his mouth shut. 

“I’m sorry,” Chim apologises. 

Buck knows he means it, he can see how guilty he feels from the look on his face. Buck also knows that he’ll forgive Chimney, because no matter how mad he is right now, he’s still one of Buck’s best friends. But he just needs time. 

“Thank you for apologising,” Buck says. 

In therapy he learned to stop saying _‘it’s okay’_ when someone apologises, because it’s _not_ okay, if it was there would be no need for an apology in the first place. He can appreciate that someone’s apologised, and he can accept it if he wants to, but he doesn’t have to tell them it’s okay when it’s not, because that’s for their benefit and not his own. 

Chim sighs in relief and smiles at him. “Okay, so we’re good?”

Buck could lie and say yes, but he’s already too many lies for this lifetime and the next one, too. 

“I’m not there yet,” Buck admits. “But we will be.”

Chim accepts it because he’s a good person. He knows that he messed up and that Buck has every right to be angry with him, but he also trusts that Buck is being honest about his feelings.

**V**

Bobby calls him into his office at the end of shift. Buck thinks it’s probably something to do with the conversation he had with Chim, like maybe Bobby wants them to shake hands and move on for the sake of the team, or whatever. But he’s smiling when Buck walks in, and he gestures for Buck to take a seat in the chair across from his desk.

“You don’t have to look so worried, Buck,” Bobby chuckles. “I’m just checking in. Wanted to see how you’re doing?”

Buck breathes a sigh of relief. He’s only ever been called into Bobby’s office for disciplinary reasons, and he likes to think he’s past all that now. Mostly. He still isn’t above breaking a few rules if he needs to. 

“I’m, y’know,” Buck says, hoping the shrug of his shoulders is enough of an answer. 

Bobby nods like he understands exactly what Buck means. He doesn’t push for anything else, which is exactly why Buck feels like he can give it to him. 

“I’m not great,” Buck admits.

“Listen kid, I won’t pretend to know anything about what you’re going through because I’d be lying if I did. But I _do_ know what it’s like to lose a child.”

Buck’s breath gets lodged in his throat, and he sits up straighter in his chair. He doesn’t feel like he should be hearing whatever Bobby is about to say, because he hasn’t talked about when he lost his family since that very first time. Buck doesn’t want him to pick at healing wounds for his sake. 

“Bobby, you don’t have to-“

“It’s okay,” Bobby says, so Buck just has to trust him. 

He leans forward as Bobby starts to talk. 

“I hid my past from all of you for so long,” he begins. “It just - it hurt _so much_ to think about, that there was no way I could even begin to talk about it. It was like my mouth forgot how to say their names.”

Buck can still hear the pain in his voice, and he wants to stop him from talking about it, stop him from reliving something this agonising. But when Buck goes to open his mouth, Bobby holds a hand up to silence him. 

Buck keeps quiet after that, because he knows that it’s easier to talk about things that hurt if you aren’t constantly being interrupted. 

“Marcy, Robert, and Brooke - they were my world. I thought I would die without them, I _wanted_ to die without them. And it felt like if I talked about them, I would break before I could do what I needed to do. So I didn’t. I didn’t tell anyone until I hit rock bottom, and my last option was honesty,” Bobby says. 

And Buck marvels at the strength of his captain, the way he’s holding it together while being so open and vulnerable. He can feel the tears threatening to spill, and he has to take a deep breath to calm himself down and keep from grabbing Bobby in a hug. 

“The point I’m trying to make is, it was _my_ choice not to tell anyone. I didn’t keep it from you, and Hen, and Chimney, because of anything _you_ did. It was because of _me,_ because of who I was back then, and how I chose to deal with it.”

As soon as it clicks, Buck squeezes his eyes shut. 

“Bobby,” he whispers. 

He keeps his eyes closed, but he can hear Bobby’s chair move as he stands up. And then there’s a hand on his shoulder and he feels so immensely grateful for everyone he has - for Bobby, who’s willing to flay himself open if it will help Buck. 

“It wasn’t your fault they hid this from you. They made one bad decision because they were hurting, and then they didn’t know how to _stop_ making bad decisions,” he says. 

Then Bobby’s hand on his shoulder tightens, and Buck reaches his own up to cover it. 

“And I’m not justifying what they did. I’m just saying that it was _never_ your fault, not even if you got into trouble, or were hard work sometimes. This is all on them.”

Buck hugs him, because he can’t speak right now, doesn’t have the words to explain what Bobby means to him, and how his words have made something inside Buck shift. He aches a little less now, doesn’t feel like such a big part of him is out of place. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, because there’s nothing else he can say. There aren’t words for what Bobby has just done for him. 

“I love you, son.”

“I love you, too.”

**+I**

It’s late, when he holds his breath and knocks on Eddie’s door

Buck knows Eddie invited him, and he knows that he’s been told time and time again that he’s always welcome at the Diaz house, but he still doesn’t want to be an imposition. 

Eddie smiles when he opens the door. 

“I’m glad you came,” he says, and doesn’t even mention anything about Buck not just using his key and walking in. 

Eddie was right earlier, when he said that he knew Buck wouldn’t want to talk. He’s done so much of it in the last few days that his throat feels hoarse, and it’s probably the first time in his life that Buck doesn’t want to say anything at all. 

So he just flops down on the couch and lets out a breath of relief when Eddie sits next to him, his side pressed all along Buck’s. He’s warm and steady - solid ground when Buck feels like the floor is crumbling beneath his feet. 

This is all he’s wanted all day, since the moment he saw his parents faces, since the moment he met Eddie. He’d never let himself ask for more, but having this is enough - having Eddie be the person he can go to to talk, or cry, or sit in silence, if that’s what he needs. It’s everything. 

“You want to talk about it?” Eddie asks.

Buck appreciates that he’s asking, and he knows it’s a testament to how far Eddie has come in the last few years, that he’s willing to have a conversation like this. One that’s big, and scary, and so filled with feelings. Buck knows he’s lucky that he gets to see this version of Eddie - that it’s offered to him so freely. 

But he definitely doesn’t need to do anymore talking tonight. 

“Absolutely not,” he says.

They both laugh, and Buck can feel the way Eddie’s body shakes at his side. This is the most normal he’s felt in days, since Maddie broke the news that their parents were on their way. It’s telling that the person to do that for him is Eddie, but it’s not like it’s unexpected. 

His feelings about Eddie haven’t surprised him since the moment he realised he was in love with his best friend. It’s nice, if not a little sad, that his feelings for Eddie are so predictable - that every time Eddie does something that makes him fall a little more in love, Buck isn’t even shocked anymore. 

“Chris told me to tell you he loves you, by the way,” Eddie says. 

Buck smiles. “God, I love that kid like crazy.”

“Eh, he’s alright,” Eddie jokes. 

Buck gasps and elbows Eddie lightly in the ribs. “Don’t talk about my best friend like that!”

Eddie laughs and shakes his head, and Buck laughs too. Easy. Normal. 

“I obviously didn’t tell him anything, but he heard me on the phone to you the other day and could tell you were sad,” Eddie tells him. “I just said it was because your parents were being mean to you.”

“That’s okay,” Buck confirms, just so Eddie doesn’t worry he’s overstepped. 

He can feel Eddie turn to look at him, so Buck turns his head too. They’re so close that Buck’s heart rate begins to pick up, and he has to force a blush down from colouring his cheeks. 

“He said it’s okay because we’re your family now.”

Buck bites down hard and takes a long, slow breath. Because that’s just - yeah. That’s a lot. And it’s such a Christopher thing to say, because Eddie has raised the best kid in the world. Buck can’t help but tear up, even though he promised himself he was done with that for the day. 

“He’s right,” Eddie says. 

And that’s what pushes Buck over the edge. His eyes are closed and he’s crying silently, and he can still feel Eddie watching him. He doesn’t feel embarrassed though, he knows Eddie gets what this means to him. 

Buck blows out a puff of air, shakes his head, then laughs. “Sorry, I-“

“You don’t have to explain,” Eddie assures him.

Buck smiles at him, and Eddie smiles back, leaning in just a tiny fraction closer. 

“God I’m a mess,” Buck laughs as he wipes his tears away. 

“Yeah, maybe a little,” Eddie teases. “But I love you anyway.”

Buck freezes. Those words wrap around his heart, filling all the cracks that his parents left in it, making him feel whole for maybe the first time in his life. 

When Buck doesn’t respond, Eddie taps his hand on Buck’s stomach, palm up, and he doesn’t make any attempts to move it away. 

“Is that okay?” Eddie asks, more shy than Buck has ever heard him. 

And Buck can hear it in his voice, exactly what Eddie is asking. If it wasn’t happening right in front of his face, Buck wouldn’t believe it. But he can see Eddie’s eyes for himself, open and honest and _loving._

Buck slots his fingers in the spaces between Eddie’s. “Yeah, yeah that’s okay.”

Eddie smiles so wide that it warms Buck right down to his toes, and he can’t help but follow when Eddie stands up and tugs on Buck’s hand. 

“Let’s go to sleep,” Eddie says. 

He doesn’t give Buck the opportunity to start doubting himself, he just reaches across the space Buck has left between them in bed, and pulls him closer. Eddie holds him tight and runs his fingers through his hair. Buck feels his whole body go pliant, like it’s letting out a sigh of relief. 

They don’t have to say anything else, Eddie doesn’t need to hear it to know how Buck feels. He just presses a gentle kiss to his forehead and doesn’t let go.

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s another one because I love Maddie so I needed them to have a conversation about this, and also I’m still mad at Chim, and Bobby is Buck’s real dad, and Eddie loves him


End file.
